Only Death Can Break Us
by KairiM
Summary: Set after Season 2. The spirit of Wanheda has latched onto Clarke and is pulling her down a dark path. Lexa might be able to save her, but in order to do so, Clarke must forgive her so that they can work together. Their journey is difficult, but Lexa will stop at nothing in order to save Clarke from the clutches of evil. Or, a new twist on the Commander of Death.
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys, so I'm new to the world of The 100/Clexa fan fiction, but I am excited to take this step by uploading this story that I have been planning for some time and make my own attempt at fixing the mess that Jroth made.

This story is set immediately after the Season 2 finale when Clarke leaves Camp Jaha. Warning; there are elements of this story that are quite dark, but I can promise that I will give you all the happy ending that we deserved.

So I hope that you all enjoy reading this and will hopefully let me know how I've done!

Oh, and I own nothing, because if I did, Season 3 would have actually been good and Lexa would still be alive!

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 **Chapter 1**

The sun hung low in the sky, casting dark golden rays over the forest. A gentle breeze glided through the trees, whispering through branches and rustling leaves. The world seemed somewhat peaceful, but peace was a foreign concept, it was nothing more than a illusion. A storm was always lurking, waiting for the right time to rip apart the calm.

Deep within the forest, a storm raged within the broken heart of Clarke Griffin. The blonde haired girl walked through the woods with no sense of purpose or destination in mind. She was barely even aware of her surroundings, allowing her feet to carry her in whichever direction that they decided to take her.

A day had almost passed since the blonde survivor had saved her friend's - her people - by wiping out an entire civilisation and all it took was a simple pull of a lever. It took one simple act to kill nearly four hundred people – men, women, and children – by burning them all to death with radiation poisoning in order to save less than fifty of her own.

Merely hours had passed since Clarke left Camp Jaha and her people behind without so much as a goodbye, but she continued to walk even as her feet and legs turned numb. Hunger gnawed at her stomach causing her body to grow heavy with fatigue, but Clarke paid no attention to her physical needs. The war had ended, but a new war was raging within the depths of Clarke's fragile mind.

Even as she and her people walked away from Mount Weather, victorious in their battle, her heart, and mind refused to calm. Clarke did not know peace, war had broken her wide open, and she was tumbling deeper into the darkness. Within only a couple of months since landing on the ground, Clarke had caused nearly a thousand deaths.

She burned three hundred grounders alive during the battle at the dropship, assisted in killing two hundred and fifty grounders at TonDC by failing to warn them about the missile, as well as murdering four hundred of the mountain men by poisoning them with radiation. She slit a Grounders throat in cold blood and she failed to save Anya after they finally came to a mutual agreement. Atom and Finn were killed by her own hand, and Wells, Charlotte and others of the hundred died because she failed to protect them. They were all dead because of her, and each life was forever imprinted into her mind. They screamed inside of her head, demanding justice. _Blood must have blood._

With the weight of their deaths heavy upon Clarke's heart, she had to walk away once her people were safe within the walls of Camp Jaha. How could she possibly look them in the eye without seeing the faces of everyone she killed just to ensure their survival? How was she supposed to mourn those they lost when others were mourning the lives that she took away?

No, she could not celebrate their survival, because a piece of Clarke died along with the Mountain. She was crumbling beneath the weight of her actions whilst the screams of the dead echoed throughout her mind.

 _I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds._

Clarke walked away and did not stop until her mind finally shut down and her body moved on autopilot. Her surroundings were nothing more than a blur as she passed and her senses had dulled, making the blonde completely unaware of the presence that followed her from a distance. Clarke was not normally so careless, but if danger came to face her now, she would welcome it.

The sun had disappeared by the time Clarke finally collapsed after her foot caught on a tree root. She hit the ground face first, not even bothering to throw her arms out to break the fall and she was numb to the pain that erupted through her from the rough landing. Despite her screaming muscles, Clarke did not even so much as moan as she rolled onto her side and pulled her knees up to her chest, nor did she acknowledge the dark figure that loomed over her crumpled body as her eyes drifted shut, and she surrendered to the darkness.

…

 _The scent of burning flesh filled Clarke's nostrils and it took everything in her not to vomit at the stench._

 _She was standing in the middle of the mess hall, surrounded by hundreds of lifeless bodies. Men, women, children, each with their skin covered from head to toe in angry burns and blisters. Unrecognisable faces were twisted in unimaginable agony, mouths open from screaming their last breath. Most lay crumpled on the floor after spending their last remaining seconds writhing in pain, or trying to make one last desperate attempt to escape the radiation or move closer to a loved one. Others were collapsed over the tables, faces buried in the plates of what they did not know was to be their last meal._

 _Their lifeless eyes were all trained on Clarke in silent accusation, and she slapped a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming out apologies as their lips began to move._

" _This is your fault,"_ they screamed.

" _Why did you do this?"_

" _Murderer."_

" _I'm sorry," Clarke sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks, "I didn't want to do this, but I had no choice."_

" _You killed us all."_

" _You will pay."_

" _Blood must have blood."_

" _I'm sorry," Clarke cried desperately, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."_

" _You will pay."_

" _Blood must have blood."_

 _An agonising scream tore from Clarke's lips and she clamped her hands against her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the voices, but they only grew louder and angrier. The noise sliced into her skull, vibrating through her brain until it was ready to explode. She turned on her heel, ready to run as far away as possible, but her foot caught on a body and she fell in amongst them._

 _They were upon Clarke within seconds, screaming bloody cries of revenge and reaching out to tear at her body. Terror dug deep into Clarke's bones as she sobbed and shrieked, trying desperately to fight them off, but there were too many. Teeth, hands, and nails ripped through Clarke's skin, but her scream could barely be heard over the constant chanting._

" _Blood must have blood!"_

" _Blood must have blood!"_

…

Clarke jerked violently, a scream ripping from her lips as she bolted upright, clawing at her blood soaked clothes. Every inch of her body roared with agony and Clarke sobbed as she ripped off her jacket, trying to find the wounds as she subconsciously fell into healer mode. Her fingers probed her arms and legs, and she frowned when she could not locate any scratch or bite marks, but she was almost positive that blood coated her skin like an extra layer of flesh. Clarke whimpered as she held her hand out in front of her in confusion, but there was no sign of blood, just the warm glow of the campfire against her skin.

Clarke froze, her heart thundering against her chest.

She did not remember building a fire…

The bushes behind Clarke suddenly exploded; her head was ripped back by a rough tug on her hair and something cold and sharp dug into her throat before she even had a chance to react.

"Fool," a familiar voice snarled in Clarke's ear. "Do you realise how easily I could have killed you?"

A mixture of emotions flooded through Clarke all at once, overwhelming her completely until she could do nothing but laugh at the reality of it all. She did not recognise the sound that left her lips; it was broken and haunted, a sound that no human should ever be capable of making. Perhaps she was not human, only a monster was capable of doing all of the horrible things she had done. She closed her eyes, images of the dead flashing through her mind and she knew that this was the only way to escape it all. If this was justice, she was okay with that.

Clarke arched her neck, pushing her throat against the blade until it cut into her skin, blood spilling from the wound. She welcomed the pain; it was the least she deserved before her overdue demise. Her blood would pay the debt.

"Do it," she demanded, awaiting the relief that only death could bring.

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Oh, so who do you think has followed Clarke? Well, you will have to wait and find out in Chapter 2!

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it's a little short but they will eventually become longer. If you are feeling generous, I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts and opinions!


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their follows/favourites, it means a lot!** **Here's chapter 2, I hope you enjoy!**

 **I don't own anything, except a really cute cat.**

Chapter 2

A lifetime seemed to pass as Clarke waited for her life to end, but in reality, it was only a matter of seconds. Blood roared within her ears as she awaited the sharp sting of the blade to slice through her skin, spilling her treacherous blood and bringing justice to all those who perished at her hands.

 _This is it,_ she thought contently _. This will make it right._

Except the pain never came, and the blade suddenly disappeared and the grip on her hair was released. Clarke's eyes snapped open just in time to see the dark figure stepping round to stand before her.

"What are you doing?" Clarke screamed at the girl. "Just get it over with!"

 _I have earned my death, just let me be._

Octavia Blake gaped at Clarke incredulously, stunned by what she was hearing. When she decided to follow the blonde leader after she snuck away from Camp Jaha without so much as a goodbye, she did not know what to expect, but this certainly was not it. She figured that Clarke would eventually realise that she was being followed and confront Octavia, who spent her time imagining exactly what she would do and say when the moment came.

However, that moment never came. Clarke was all too familiar with the dangers of going out alone; she was the one who constantly drilled the remaining members of the hundred about paying attention to their surroundings. Yet, it seemed that the overly careful sky girl was gone, and it concerned Octavia more than she cared to admit. If somebody posed a threat, Clarke would be dead before she even realised she was under attack.

All Octavia wanted to do was teach Clarke a lesson, to make her realise just how foolish she was being, but nothing could have prepared Octavia for this. Clarke was not afraid of dying; in fact, she almost seemed to welcome it.

The revelation shook Octavia to the core and the sword slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Clarke's head fell in defeat, but Octavia did not fail to notice how her watery blue eyes darted towards the unhandled blade, so she kicked it away for extra measure.

"Sorry, Clarke, but that's not going to happen," she said quietly, but Clarke shook her head vigorously, refusing to hear those words.

"Why?" She cried, her voice cracked and broken.

Octavia scuffed her feet before crouching in front of the fire. "Despite what you've done, I don't want you to die."

Clarke sobbed in response. "Why do you care?" she asked, sounding sceptical. "I thought you were done with me."

Anxiety twisted in Octavia's gut, this was not like Clarke at all. No matter how bad the situation, Clarke always remained strong. Even when they were running blind into dangerous situations, terrified out of their minds, Clarke was the one to lead them to safety. Many of their people had died since landing on the ground, but it was because of Clarke that so many of them survived.

Octavia glanced at the girl's hunched, quivering form and she did not like what she was seeing. Clarke had never broken down like this, not even when she was forced to kill Finn in order to save him from hours of brutal torture. Sure, she was broken, but the alliance with the Grounders gave her something to focus on which seemed to keep her from completely falling apart. However, now that there was no longer a war to prepare for, or plans to make in order to save the lives of their people, Clarke had nothing to keep her mind from reliving every awful thing that had happened since they landed on the ground.

Clarke had done many things that Octavia could not even begin to understand, let alone forgive, but it was because of those choices that they were all still alive. There were times when Octavia would watch the blonde and wonder how she could remain so calm even in the face of death, even when she had absolutely no clue what she was doing, just improvising to give them all a chance. Nobody asked Clarke to become their leader, but she took the responsibility anyway, and Octavia would never admit it, but she respected Clarke for stepping up to the mark, even if she did not fully approve of the choices that she made.

Except, war had changed them, just as they knew it would. Blood, death, torture, murder, betrayal, it had beaten them all down into the ground, leaving them as nothing more than broken fragments of the people they once were. Survival came at a high price, one that not everyone was willing to pay. Clarke paid the price, and now it was clear to Octavia that she was suffering for it. Yes, she hated Clarke for leaving her and so many others to die at TonDC, and she would not pretend that she was okay with some of the choices that she made, but Clarke's life would not end by her hand.

"I'm not going to kill you, Clarke, so deal with it," Octavia snapped, poking the fire with a stick just so her hands had something to do. "I know you're upset, but I'm not going to let you take the coward's way out."

Clarke forced a breath out of her lungs and stared at the young girl through watery eyes, her body heaving with silent sobs. _Upset…_ was that really all that Octavia believed she was feeling? There was a gaping fucking hole in her chest from where her heart should be, but the war required her to tear it out, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

No, she was not upset, because that would require being able to feel, but Clarke was hollow inside. She wanted to know what justice felt like, but no wound would ever hurt enough, no cut would ever run deep enough to erase the pain that she felt within her very core. Nothing would ever be enough to release Clarke of her guilt, just as nothing would ever soothe the sting of Lexa's betrayal.

Oh god, Lexa…

Clarke gasped as waves of images flashed through her mind at the thought of the Commander. She clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth as she grounded her fists into the dirt beneath her, almost as if she was trying to push all of the hurt and anger out of her bones and into the earth. She pushed until her knuckles screamed in protest, and then she pushed some more.

Clarke never meant to trust Lexa; she was never supposed to be anything more than an ally who gave her the means of saving her people. She did not realise just how much she did trust Lexa until she was forced to watch the Commander turn her back and walk away. She certainly had not meant to care about Lexa, but did not realise just how much she cared until she was left standing outside of Mount Weather with a hollow aching in her heart at the loss of the other woman's presence. Clarke knew she needed Lexa; she needed a strong ally who would protect her and the rest of the Sky People against any who opposed them. It was never supposed to be anything more, except, it became so much more than that, and Clarke did not realise until it was all too late.

Lexa was right all along. _Love IS weakness._

Clarke's mind swam with the memory of soft, warm lips pressed against her own. Her stomach fluttered as she remembered the sweet, hot breath that filled her mouth. She remembered the way her heart pounded against her chest as she reached up to grip Lexa's arm because the usually rigid Commander was actually trembling with nerves. She remembered the guilt that twisted in her stomach at the hurt look on Lexa's face when she pulled away, only to be replaced with understanding when she explained that she was not ready, and Lexa's eyes shining with hope when Clarke murmured "Not yet."

Clarke stifled a gasp, pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to soothe her aching heart. It was all too much. Lexa warned her, but she did not listen. She allowed her heart to rule her head and now she was paying the price for such weakness.

However, Lexa never felt like a weakness to Clarke, which was what made it so much harder. Her feelings for Lexa were the most real thing she had ever felt in her short life. Lexa was the most real person she had ever met, and the most infuriating, but she understood Clarke better than anybody else. She had not realised just how important that was, until she was forced to make impossible decisions for the sake of her people. Nobody understood that hardship better than Lexa.

Lexa would never judge Clarke for her actions at Mount Weather; she would not see her as a monster for killing hundreds of innocent people. No, Lexa would understand that Clarke was simply acting as a leader; the need to protect her people came first. Lexa would understand because she had done the same thing, saving hundreds of her people at the price of the Sky People, and Clarke fucking hated her for it.

She did not care that she understood why Lexa took the deal, nor did she care that as a leader, she would have done the same thing. Clarke had allowed herself to believe that she and the rest of her people meant more to Lexa than just an alliance. She had let her guard down, allowed Lexa to worm her way into her heart just to be left to die once she was no longer useful. She was nothing more than a means to an end.

Never again would she be a pawn in someone else's game.

Clarke's heart ached profusely, she wanted nothing more than to curl up and forget the world, but every time she closed her eyes, the screams of the dead forced her to rip them back open. In the end, Clarke rested her chin upon her arms and stared blankly into the fire.

Time passed in a blur of silence, and for a moment Clarke was able to forget about her unexpected companion who was sitting on the other side of the campfire, until Octavia suddenly stood up. Clarke continued to stare into the flames even as Octavia picked up her sword and announced that she was going to take watch. For a split second, Clarke contemplated running as soon as the young girl ventured into the woods, but even if she could muster the strength to move, Octavia would only track her down again.

However, as soon as Octavia disappeared within the trees, keeping her eyes open and fixed upon the warm glow of the fire was not enough to keep the darkness at bay. Clarke swallowed harshly, heart pounding in her chest as the sense of dread settled into the pit of her stomach. Sweat trickled down her spine as the shadows seemed to close in, and even as she buried her face into her arms to avoid looking at them, Clarke could still feel the darkness clawing at her skin. Her head snapped up and before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet and scrambling after Octavia.

The sound of Clarke crashing clumsily through the trees must have alerted Octavia to her presence, because the brunette girl suddenly came rushing back, sword held high and eyes wide. She breathed out a sigh and relaxed upon seeing Clarke, but she did not lower her sword just in case there was something out there.

"Clarke, what's wrong?" she asked, eyes darting around as they scanned the woods for signs of danger.

Suddenly, Clarke had no idea what to say, explaining that she was too afraid to be alone seemed stupid, so she lamely scuffed her foot across the ground and rubbed a hand across the back of her neck as her mind raced to come up with a plausible explanation.

"I… I don't…"

However, Octavia did not need an explanation. The fear shone clearly in Clarke's wide eyes and Octavia could see her trembling even in the darkness. If she had not just witnessed Clarke's eagerness to have a blade drawn across her throat, Octavia might have believed that she was under attack, but the haunted look on Clarke's face suggested that it was not an attack that she feared.

Octavia blew out a sigh. "Come on, we can take watch together."

Clarke slowly nodded and followed the younger girl. After a few minutes of walking through the woods in silence and eventually finding a suitable tree to climb, the two of them were soon sat across from each other on separate branches that were large enough to take their weight.

There was no other way to describe their situation as anything other than awkward, but Clarke was content to put up with the tension just for the sake of not being alone. She held on tightly to her handgun almost as if she was trying the draw strength from the weapon whilst Octavia twirled her sword, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground in search of movement.

"Why are you here?" Clarke asked after becoming too uncomfortable with the silence, and she had not realised how much the question was bothering her until she finally asked it.

The sword stilled, but Octavia did not reply immediately and as the minutes stretched on in silence, Clarke began to wonder if Octavia was simply going to ignore her from now on.

"I don't belong there," she muttered eventually and returned to twirling her sword.

"What about Bellamy?" Clarke could not even imagine how much the older Blake sibling would be freaking out with the disappearance of his little sister. She hoped that Octavia at least said goodbye, because otherwise it would not be long until they had an angry, desperate Bellamy on their trail.

Octavia shrugged. "He doesn't understand, and he hates the Grounders even more now."

Clarke's gut twisted with guilt. Despite everything that had happened, she understood how Octavia felt. Spending time with the Grounders made her realise that they were not so different, but Bellamy and so many others could not move past their narrow-minded views on how they believed the world should be. The Grounders found a way to survive in this harsh world, but the Sky People saw them as nothing more other than savages, and Lexa's betrayal would only heighten those beliefs.

"Octavia..." she began, wanting to apologize for everything that she had put the younger girl through recently.

"Save it, Clarke," Octavia interrupted, knowing exactly what Clarke was about to say. "Just because I wouldn't kill you, doesn't mean that I forgive you."

Tears welled up in Clarke's eyes and she bowed her head in shame. "I don't expect your forgiveness," she murmured. "I was trying to do the right thing and I failed."

Octavia could hear the emotion in Clarke's voice and she shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps it was due to growing up hidden beneath the floor and being kept away from all human contact, but comforting emotional people was not Octavia's forte, especially when the person was somebody who had let her down in such a big way.

"You didn't fail; Clarke," Octavia sighed, "but I don't understand how you could let that missile hit TonDC without warning any of us about it."

Clarke shifted, a wave of nausea hitting her as she unwillingly remembered that awful day. "Lexa..." she began, but her voice cracked and she could not continue. _Lexa made me believe that it was the right thing to do. I was trying to protect Bellamy…_

Octavia scoffed at the sound of the Commander's name, her blood boiling with rage. "How could you trust her after everything she did?" she snapped, her voice laced with venom. "She left her own people to die, what the hell made you believe that she wouldn't do the same to us?"

"I thought she was different!" Clarke cried, not realising how true those words were until they left her mouth. "She helped me when I had no idea what I was doing."

"That's not good enough!" Octavia snarled and Clarke flinched, her heart sinking the same way it had when Octavia fired those words at her when they were standing outside of Mount Weather.

"You trusted Indra," Clarke fired back.

"That's different!"

"No, it's not. Indra would have slaughtered us all if it wasn't for the alliance. She's no better than Lexa."

Octavia scowled, fury radiating through her body. She wanted to prove to Clarke that she was wrong, but deep down she knew it was true. Indra wanted to turn her into a mindless warrior who followed and worshipped the Commander's every word, and cut her down when she refused to place her loyalty in someone she did not trust.

Octavia gritted her teeth. No, this was all Lexa's fault, Indra and the others had no choice but to follow her orders or they would suffer the same fate as Gustus, as Lincoln...

"She took everything from me," she seethed quietly, "the Trikru, Lincoln..."

Octavia's throat constricted at the thought of her gentle lover, the one person who actually made her feel like she belonged, and her heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again. She had half the mind to invade the camp where he was being held and tear down anyone who tried to stop her from saving him, even the Commander herself.

However, even if it were remotely possible to approach the camp without having her throat slit, doing so would only cause another war. Lincoln gave up everything for what he believed in, to live in a world without bloodshed, so Octavia refused to do anything that would disrespect her lover's memory. She would not let his death be in vain, even if it was killing her to sit back and do nothing.

"You don't have to stay with me, O," Clarke whispered. She so badly wanted to apologize, but knew doing so would only infuriate the younger girl further.

When she left Camp Jaha, she was desperate to be alone, but Octavia's company somehow made it easier to cope with the dark thoughts that were floating around her mind, and she suddenly could not bear the idea of being alone again. Despite that, Clarke knew that she could not be selfish, Octavia had already been through a lot, and she refused to make it any harder for her.

"Where else would I go?" Octavia asked solemnly, creating a spark of hope within Clarke. "I may as well make sure that you don't do anything stupid, and I'm not going to let you forget about what you've done."

Octavia's words stung, but Clarke knew that she deserved nothing less, so she held back the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks and settled against the tree. They did not speak for the rest of the night, and Clarke was almost positive that Octavia had fallen asleep. Her own eyes were heavy and scratchy, but she refused to let them close, knowing what she would see if she did and she was not yet ready to face her fears.

Clarke forced herself to stay awake, finding comfort in the light sounds of Octavia's breathing even as her body ached with fatigue. It even hurt to breathe, every breath like a knife slicing into her lungs, but the pain was a reminder of all of the awful crimes she had committed and that was enough to keep her awake. Octavia did not have to follow her around to stop her from forgetting, the memories were burned into Clarke's mind like a heated blade against her flesh, leaving a nasty, ugly scar that would haunt her for the rest of her days.

* * *

 **I know most of you were probably expecting this to be Lexa, but I wanted to do something different. In this story, Lincoln doesn't make it back to Camp Jaha, so Octavia has no reason to stick around. Is Lincoln alive? Well, you'll have to keep reading to find out! I intend on updating once a week, so the updates should come every Monday hopefully!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this story. I would love to know what you think of it so far, whether it's good or bad. Constructive criticism always helps!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"The Maunon have fallen, Heda."

Lexa pulled her attention away from the paper spread across her lap and lifted her chin, staring down at the Trikru General. The information did not seem to faze the young woman; she was well trained at keeping her emotions hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"You are sure?" Her strong voice carried through the open space of the Commander's tent, where she was currently working on plans for the reconstruction of TonDC. Now that her people were safe, it was time to focus on repairing the damage that the war had caused.

"Sha, Heda," Indra replied, standing tall and proud with her hands clasped behind her back. "Our patrol confirmed that the Skaikru escaped the mountain with around fifty survivors, so I ordered Mikel to take a group of warriors and inspect the mountain. They have reported that every last mountain man has perished."

Not a lot surprised Lexa, she had seen, heard and done many things in all of her years as Commander, but discovering that Mount Weather, their greatest enemy – who had tortured, killed and turned her people into monsters for as long as any of them could remember – had finally fallen, surprised her more than she could have possibly imagined. Despite having struck a deal with the Mountain Men, Lexa was not naïve enough to believe that they would honour their terms once they were able to walk the earth. All she could hope was that her people had enough time to recover before they were thrown back into the middle of another war, and that their knowledge of this world would give them the upper hand.

However, the days of fearing being chased off their lands and wiped out by the enemies advanced weaponry were finally over. It was a day that the Trigedakru had dreamed of for a long time, and Lexa wanted nothing more than to allow her people the chance to celebrate, but first she had other matters to attend.

She rose from her throne, red cloak pooling around her feet as she slowly approached the General. "And what of Clarke?" she asked calmly, though her heart pounded ferociously against her will as her mind wandered to a particular blonde haired leader. Lexa did not need to know the cause of the Mountain's demise, she was already certain that Clarke was behind it. The blonde would stop at nothing to save her friends, even if it meant putting her life on the line.

Indra – who was oblivious to the turmoil raging with the Commander - hesitated slightly before answering. "They have returned safely to Camp Jaha," she replied, shifting suddenly.

The hesitation did not go unnoticed by Lexa, and sensing her sudden discomfort, she narrowed her eyes at the dark skinned General. "Speak true, Indra. What is it?"

Indra quickly regained her composure, straightening her spine as silently scolded herself for allowing it to slip in front of her Heda. "Clarke of the Sky People left Camp Jaha shortly after they arrived, as has Octavia. They are yet to return."

The Commander simply blinked at the information, but her heart plummeted and stomach twisted nervously. She could not stop herself from thinking about Clarke after she left her outside of Mount Weather, and every time she pictured the devastated look on the blonde's face when she sounded the retreat, Lexa was overcome by waves of crushing guilt.

As quickly as it appeared, the guilt was replaced by a spark of raw anger. The Commander of twelve clans was not supposed to feel guilty, especially when it came to saving her people. She did what was necessary as a leader, saving the lives of her people came before everything else and even if she could do it all over again, she would not change her decision. The alliance with the Sky People was only possible because they offered a chance at taking down the Mountain, but if she declined the opportunity of saving hundreds of her people just to help the outsiders who had invaded their lands, killed hundreds of the Trikru, and provoked a war, the clans would rebel. It would all have been for nothing if they ended one war only to end up in the middle of another.

Lexa turned back towards her throne, clasping her hands behind her back. She stood tall, her chin raised proudly and the young woman radiated power. She was blessed by the Commander's spirit, she would not feel guilty, nor would she ever regret her choices, regardless of how much her heart ached from listening to her head.

"Do we know why they would leave the safety of their people?" she asked stiffly. Not knowing what the Sky Leader was thinking made Lexa nervous; she had learned not to underestimate Clarke.

"We do not," Indra admitted. "We wanted your permission before engaging with the Sky People. How should we proceed, Heda?"

Lexa pondered this for a moment. "What of Lincoln?"

Indra's expression instantly darkened. "The Natrona has fled; he is seeking refuge within Camp Jaha."

Despite the authenticity of her reaction, Lexa could see straight through Indra's act. There was no possible way that Lincoln could have escaped without help, and Lexa could think of no one else who would have taken such a risk. The General was tough on Lincoln even when he was a boy, just as Anya was tough on her. It was a clear sign that they had potential to be something greater. If it were not for Anya's vigorous training and authority, Lexa never would have made it as Commander. Perhaps it was easier having something to fight for; Lexa found her true purpose when the Commander's spirit joined with her own and she knew that she would spend her life fighting to bring peace to her people. Lincoln – who had always seemed like an outcast amongst the Trikru – had finally found his true calling; the only problem was that it lay with the Sky People.

If it were not for the fact that Lexa held a high amount of respect for the woman who had helped to raise her after her parents died and who had been nothing but loyal, even when others doubted her capability as Commander, Lexa might have confronted her. However, with the war over, their enemy defeated and their people safe, she was willing to turn a blind eye on this one occasion.

"Lincoln has made his choice. Let it be known that if he is seen outside of Camp Jaha that he is to be killed on sight, and resistance from the Sky People will only end in their death." The words tasted bitter as they left Lexa's mouth, the last thing she wanted was to drive another wedge between the two clans, but she had to set an example before anyone else got the wrong idea and began to question her leadership.

"As for Clarke and Octavia, I want a daily report on their activities. Watch them closely, but keep a distance, only engage if it is necessary. They cannot know that they are being followed."

"Sha, Heda." Indra nodded respectfully before exiting the tent.

Once she was alone, Lexa released a deep breath and slumped against her throne. She tried to assure herself the sending her people to spy on Clarke was a necessary action, that if there was a chance that the sky girl was looking for revenge, then it was better to be safe than sorry, but she only grew angry with herself the more that she tried to lie about her intentions. As much as she hated to admit it, this was not about protecting herself from the possibility of an attack; she was more than capable of defending herself, nor was this about protecting her people whilst they were still vulnerable. No, this was about protecting Clarke from the grisly fate that would await her if she even so much as hinted a revenge attack, if her people even slightly suspected that the Commander's life was being threatened, she would have no choice but to react, regardless of if she sympathised with Clarke's reasoning.

Oh, Clarke, she thought as her head dropped into her hands, I could not protect you from Mount Weather, nor can I protect you from this. Every inch of Lexa's being wanted to believe that Clarke's sudden urge to leave her people and explore the woods was simply innocent, that there was no ulterior motive behind her actions, but the Commander's spirit inside of her was restless and on edge, and Lexa knew that it was no coincidence.

Something dark was brewing in the distance, and Lexa was sure that Clarke was at the heart of it.

…

A week had passed since the fall of Mount Weather, since Clarke and Octavia left what was supposed to be their home to wander through the wilderness. Clarke was positive that Abby and Bellamy would quickly lose patience and order a search party to find and drag them back by any means necessary, so the duo forced themselves to cover as much distance as they could before that happened.

Their days were simple; wake up, eat, pack up camp, and continue walking until the sun disappeared, coating the world in darkness and preventing them from going any further. The two barely spoke; neither was really in the mood to, not when they had so much going on in their own minds. If they did, it was only in clipped sentences and never about anything remotely personal. Octavia informed Clarke the first few times when she would go out to hunt, but eventually they both got so used to the routine that it was no longer necessary.

Clarke would set up camp and keep watch whilst Octavia was hunting. They would prepare a basic meal and eat in silence before one of them would settle down to sleep. They took turns keeping watch throughout the night, rotating every couple of hours, mostly because Clarke could not sleep for any longer than that without waking up screaming from a nightmare, and sometimes Octavia would stay up with Clarke so that she would not have to be alone. They never commented on it, Octavia would never admit that she was concerned for Clarke, and Clarke would not admit that she was grateful for the silent company, so it just became another part of their routine.

Despite their surprising companionship, Clarke believed that Octavia still did not trust her not to do anything stupid, but she was unaware that deep down, Octavia was afraid for her. Clarke's screams were like a nightmare in itself; the tortured sounds chilled Octavia to the bone and left her utterly terrified, fearing falling asleep in case she experienced the nightmares herself. She knew what it was like to be plagued by the terrors of the night; having had her own fair share about being locked beneath the floor of the Ark, unable to escape as she suffocated in the darkness.

As night drew near - much to Clarke's dismay, - the two girl's chose a spot to settle down and build a camp. As Octavia ventured off into the woods to hunt, Clarke threw together a pile of firewood and eagerly worked on building a campfire. Winter was far worse than Clarke originally anticipated, each day was colder than the last, and their clothing was not suitable for this weather. Sleeping on the frozen ground without furs or blankets was becoming unbearable even whilst lying next to a roaring fire, and every morning they awoke feeling stiff and fatigued. Their food supply was scarce despite Octavia's capability at hunting for their meals, but it would only continue to deplete with animals going into hibernation and the lack of berries to forage.

Clarke pushed a hand through her hair, cringing as her fingers snagged on several knots. She desperately wanted a bath, but with the dramatic drop in temperature over the last couple of days, it was impossible to do anything more than quickly wash at a river. They badly needed supplies if they intended on surviving through the winter, but Clarke was not prepared to admit defeat and return home with her tail between her legs. When Octavia returned from her evening hunt, Clarke decided it was time for them to construct some sort of plan.

"We need supplies," she said as Octavia settled down to skin the rabbit she had caught.

Octavia stiffened slightly at the sound of the blonde's voice after becoming so used to the silence, but she replied with a sigh and nodded. "I know."

"Do you want to go home?" Clarke asked hesitantly, and Octavia narrowed her eyes at the question.

"I told you, that place is not my home."

She nodded. "Good, I don't want to go back either."

Octavia studied the blonde for a moment before returning to her task. "You have a plan," she stated simply. She knew Clarke well enough to know that she would not have brought up the conversation without an idea in mind.

"We should go to the supply depot," Clarke replied as she placed a few of their remaining berries on a leaf for Octavia to pick at.

"I thought Kane and the others already cleared it out?"

"They did, but we could use it as shelter for the winter. It's not in the best condition, but it has to be better than this."

Octavia nodded. "Okay, but what about supplies?"

Clarke hesitated, dreading what she was about to suggest because the idea of ever returning there made her feel sick to her stomach. "Mount Weather," she murmured.

Octavia's head snapped up so fast that it almost looked painful and she nearly dropped the rabbit that she was working on. "What? Clarke…"

"I know, I know," the blonde sighed, knowing exactly what Octavia was thinking. She pulled her legs up to her chest. "I don't want to go near that place again either, but we don't have much of a choice if we want to survive."

"Clarke, this is a really bad idea." Octavia said, her voice laced with anxiety.

Clarke swallowed thickly. "I know, but Mount Weather has everything we need to get through the winter."

Octavia sighed and returned her attention back to the half-skinned rabbit. She still had not quite gotten the hand of skinning an animal; in fact, it still made her feel a little sick. Even if she was able to skin it without accidentally cutting chunks off, they did not have anything to sew the furs together to make a blanket. The days were cold, but the nights were awful and the meat of the rabbits was barely enough to provide them with one meal. As much as she dreaded the thought of returning to the mountain and worried about what it would do to Clarke, they were not prepared for this winter. If they did not freeze to death first, then they would certainly starve.

Reluctantly, she nodded. "It will take us at least a day to get there, so we'll set off at first light, head west for a few hours, and then go north until we reach Mount Weather. That way we'll avoid going anywhere near Camp Jaha or any of the Grounder camps."

Clarke released a sigh of relief, relieved that she was not alone in this. She had forgotten what it felt like to have a plan and it filled her with a bit of confidence, knowing that they might just stand a chance of making it on their own.

As usual, they prepared and ate their meal in silence, but the tension was somewhat thicker than before as the nerves for their upcoming journey began to sink in. Clarke was more restless than usual as she settled near the campfire in the hopes of getting at least a couple of hours sleep, knowing that she needed the strength if they were going to travel all the way to the mountain. She led facing the fire, but the warmth caressing her skin was not enough to melt the chill that had settled into her bones. Her stomach knotted and squirmed with nausea as she tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position on the cold, hard ground.

As the night grew quieter, Clarke's thoughts only grew louder until it was almost impossible to keep them out. Her body trembled from more than just the cold as her heavy eyelids urged for a moment of rest, but the moment they slipped shut, the images appeared. Each time Clarke ripped her eyes open with a gasp, her heart thundered against her chest and she had to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. As a doctor in training, Clarke knew that she could not go much longer without sleeping; she could already feel how the deprivation was wearing on her body, but she had never been as scared of anything as she was about falling asleep.

However, as much as Clarke resisted, her body eventually gave in to its needs and as her eyes slipped shut, she drifted off into another world.

 _A cold breeze whipped through Clarke's hair, curling around the back of her neck and chilling her to the bone. Shadows danced in synchronisation with the flickering blue flames of the burning torches hung high on the walls. She stood beneath a stone archway, and the area was eerily quiet except for the calm, crackling fire that lured Clarke into a sense of peace, her lips pulled up into a lazy half smile, as she almost seemed to float down a dark corridor leading away from the archway. It was a strange sensation, every worry that plagued her mind and weighed down upon her shoulders suddenly seemed unimportant, as if they had just melted away and seeped into the ground below._

 _A laugh bubbled up Clarke's throat, and she was suddenly overcome by the urge to throw her arms out and scream with joy. There was not a time that she could remember where she had ever felt so free, so alive. Every inch of her body tingled with anticipation; she was invincible, and beautifully powerful._

 _But as the corridor eventually came to an end and Clarke stepped out into the open, the glow of the moonlight illuminating her golden hair and cascading over her body like a waterfall of silver light, the euphoria instantly gave way to pure devastation._

 _The ground beneath her squelched as her as her feet slowly carried her towards a mound of disfigured bodies, and Clarke did not need the moonlight to see that she was walking through a river of blood. The thick, irony stench of spilled blood and death caught at the back of Clarke's throat and she fought against the violent urge to heave until nothing in her stomach remained. Wide, fear filled eyes darted between the fallen warriors, desperately searching for a familiar face, and silently praying that she would not find one._

 _Oh my god, her mind silently whispered. Who did this?_

 _Just as the thought came to her, the scene suddenly changed. She remained outside, still coated by the beautiful glow of the moonlight that did not seem to fit under such devastating circumstances, but she stood atop of a hill, watching a chilling battle between two warriors. The sound of blades clashing screeched through the night, ringing through Clarke's ears until they almost felt like they would bleed. Her heart thundered against her ribs as she anxiously watched the fight._

 _Dread seeped into Clarke's stomach, every muscle screamed at her to do something, to scream at them to stop or force them away from each other, but her feet were rooted to the spot. Tears pricked at her eyes as she watched the pair dance around each other, flinching every time their swords came together with tremendous force, unsure of which time was going to be the last. She helplessly watched as they swirled, ducked, and jabbed at each other with such determination that it was almost earth shattering passionate, and it broke Clarke's heart._

 _These two strangers in the night… there was something about them that made Clarke ache. With their desperation to cut the other down, came a deep sorrow that shook her to the core. Every jab was a silent cry, and every slash was a bittersweet promise. This was a fight to the death, but not with the sole intention of ending a life and viciously spilling an enemy's blood._

 _This was a battle between two warriors, between two souls connected and divided, between two lovers who found themselves on opposite sides of a war, who could not live with or without each other. This was a battle to end their suffering, to save their love once and for all._

 _As a blade finally struck, everything went silent, even Clarke's heart. Tears filled her eyes as she watched the warriors embrace, slowly sinking down onto the ground as the victor laid their lover to rest in a puddle of blood before pressing one last kiss to their lips. As the survivor, slowly rose to their feet and stepped away, the moonlight caught the fallen warrior's face, and a scream ripped out of Clarke's lungs before she had a chance to stop it. Her heart shattered as she stared down upon Lexa's still form._

" _This is what you are, and all that you will be, Wanheda."_

 _Clarke's eyes snapped up towards the surviving warrior, and screamed at the sight of her own face staring back with hollow eyes._

* * *

 _Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited, it means a lot! I'd love to hear what you think. You can find me on tumblr under KairiM. Hit me up!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! So sorry it has taken me so long to upload this chapter. I got a new job and it has been taking up a lot of my time, but this chapter is a bit longer than the others so I hope it makes up for the delay!**

 **So here's chapter 4, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing of the 100, all I own is an imaginative mind!**

Chapter 4

A shrill scream broke through the calm of the night like a bullet exploding from the barrel of a gun, ricocheting off the trees and sending chills down the spines of all that could hear it. The animals fled in fear, sensing the impending peril that lay in wait within the darkness, and the Commander of the twelve clans immediately stiffened, her stomach plunging with dread.

Lexa stood overlooking the camp, watching proudly at the sight of her people working together to help the injured recover from the war against Mount Weather. The camp was mostly quiet now that everyone had settled down to sleep, but even with the patrol scouting the area, the niggling in Lexa's stomach refused to allow her to rest.

Even from a distance, somehow she knew that the screams belonged to Clarke, and her heart lurched painfully at the sound. With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the tree and tried to force away the uncomfortable niggling of nerves in the pit of her stomach. Every inch of her urged to jump on her horse and race towards the sky girl, but something kept Lexa rooted to the spot, a paralyzing fear that she had never felt before.

Lexa swallowed thickly and shifted, straightening her spine as she tried to relax. It was natural to feel this way after a war, was it not? For years, the Mountain Men had terrorized her people, inducing them to live in fear of their brutal and barbaric ways. It would take some time for that fear to dissipate. Even with the Mountain defeated, she would always have enemies; there would always be other dangers. She was the Commander; she could not afford to be careless.

No, that's not what it was. The hairs on the back of Lexa's neck quivered and stood on end, and she sighed. She had been to war many times, but never had she felt like this before or after a battle. In fact, she had never once felt this awful in her entire life.

Lexa curled a hand around the smooth hilt of her dagger, gripping it tightly for comfort. Forest green eyes scanned the trees for any sign of danger, but only the sight of absolute darkness greeted her.

No wind whispered through the trees. No animals scurried within the night. All she could hear was the crackling of the campfire.

Something was terribly wrong.

A twig snapped in the distance and Lexa flew to her feet, dagger at the ready. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she remained completely still, blending in with the darkness as she focused her sight in the direction of where the sound came from, preparing to strike.

Nothing moved. The forest was still.

Lexa sheathed her dagger with a scowl. _Get it together,_ she told herself angrily as she settled back against the tree. _This is not the time to allow paranoia to get the best of you._

Except she could not shake the feeling that something was not right, it went deeper than her concern for her people and even Clarke. It was more than just a disturbed thought, or the unsettled aftermath of the war. Something was stirring within the night, something familiar, yet she could not put her finger on what.

The Commander stared up at the trees. She knew every inch of the forest. Every slope, every tree and every glade were familiar, and had provided herself and her people with food, clothing, weapons, shelter, safety and advantages against their enemies. The forest has been just as much of a part of Lexa as her own heart, just as it was for every Trikru. It was home.

That was how she knew that something was not right, within the forest and within herself.

Lexa was sixteen summers old when the Commander's spirit joined with her own, and for the last five summers, she had to learn to live without the privacy of her own thoughts and emotions. The thoughts, memories and experiences of the previous Commander's constantly echoed throughout her being. They were forever there, feeding her the strength when she was afraid, encouraging her when she was unsure of a decision. Lexa's mind was never silent, and it required a long time for her to adjust to never being truly alone.

Now, the Commander's spirit was distant, silent, and anxious, making Lexa feel more on edge than she would ever care to admit. She needed guidance and assurance, now more than ever.

With a trembling breath, she shut her eyes and allowed her head to reach out into the darkness. There were many skills and abilities that she had gained since becoming to Commander including enhanced sight, hearing, speed and endurance. This particular ability was dangerous, and she only practised it when it was utterly necessary.

She cast every thought and emotion away as her mind continued to venture further into the depth of the shadows, except for one. Her breathing slowed, her body relaxed as her mind filled with the memories and images of one person, and her spirit reached out towards it.

As her spirit detached itself, the weight of her physical body slowly ebbed away until she was as light and swift as the wind. She looked down upon the sight of her body propped up against the tree, almost as if she were merely sleeping.

"I have been waiting for you, Lexa."

Lexa's eyes snapped up towards the sound of the familiar voice that made her heartache, and the sight of a tall, strong woman with dark blonde hair and fierce, brown eyes greeted her. The woman watched her closely with a grin, showing more comfort and familiarity than anybody else would ever dare to display in the presence of their Heda. Lexa's heart clenched painfully as she stared at the spirit of her friend, mentor, and the closest thing that she had to a sister.

"Anya…" she breathed out.

Anya's grin saddened ever so slightly, but did not falter. "It is good to see you, kid."

Lexa swallowed thickly, forcing down the wave of emotion that had taken shape inside her throat. "I would have come sooner, but…"

Anya shook her head, cutting her off. "You are Heda; you had a war and an alliance to focus on. I understand."

The words should have comforted her, but instead they only made Lexa's guilt intensify. A warrior does not grieve for those who they have lost until after the battle, that was their way. She had refused to allow herself to even so much as think of Anya after she learned of her death, and it suddenly hit her like a stab to the chest of just how much she missed her.

"Death is not the end, Lexa, you know this," Anya said softly, as if sensing her train of thought.

The words broke Lexa out of her stupor and she mentally shook herself; this was not the time to mourn. "The Mountain has fallen," she said, the Commander's mask falling back into place, "but my spirit is restless. Something does not feel right, Anya. I fear that something worse has risen in place of the _Maunon_."

"Yes, I feel it too," she replied, turning her gaze away. "Something changed in the spirit world after the sky girl took down the Mountain."

Fear bloomed in Lexa's chest at the mention of Clarke and her hands curled into the fists. "Tell me what happened."

"Clarke killed hundreds of innocent people to save her own. That kind of sacrifice does not come without a price."

Lexa gritted her teeth. It was just as she feared. Clarke had proved many times that she was capable of doing just about anything whenever it came to the safety of her people; it was what made her a truly great and powerful leader, but it was only a matter of time until she was forced to do something that she would never be able to live with. Clarke was clever, strategic, but foolishly rash when her emotions got the better of her. She did not take a moment to consider the consequences; she did not weigh up the risks. Her heart ruled her; she simply accepted the weight of every death as her price to pay, and she would carry it alone even if it crushed her into the ground, just so that no one else would have to. It was in her nature to try to fix everything for everyone, but nobody had taught her how to deal with the aftermath.

"I pushed her to this," Lexa mumbled, casting her eyes towards the ground.

Anya stepped forward and gripped her former Second's shoulders. "I know you care about her, Lexa, but you are responsible for your people, just as Clarke is for hers. You know better than to question your choices."

Lexa reached up and grabbed hold of the hand on her shoulder, allowing herself to feel comforted by the touch of the woman who practically raised her, even if it was only momentarily. Entering the spirit world was a dangerous skill, one that she could not often indulge in. It could be a while until she was able to visit her once more.

"Is Clarke in danger?" she asked, finally voicing the one thing that she desperately needed to know.

Anya released her grasp and stepped backward, looking hesitant as she stated, "I don't know if she's in danger, or if she is the danger."

Lexa almost winced at the sick feeling that churned in her gut. "What do you believe I should do?" Normally she would not ask anybody for advice. She was the Commander; her guidance came from within, not from her warriors, whether they were dead or not, but this was different. Anya had been guiding her long before she became Heda; there was nobody who she trusted more to help in a moment of uncertainty.

"If she is a risk to our people, then she must be put down," Anya replied, unaware of the devastating blow that her words delivered to Lexa's heart.

She averted her eyes towards the ground, knowing that Anya would be able to read her instantly. Abandoning Clarke at Mount Weather was hard enough, killing or even hurting her was not an option.

When did this become so difficult? She learned the hard way after Costia that the only way to be a good leader was by not having any weaknesses. Showing that she did not care was the only way to ensure the safety of the people that she did care for, and make the hard decisions as a leader, like killing Gustus. It kept her people in line and ensured their loyalty, and they could live in the safety of knowing that they had a strong leader who would always make the best choices for them.

How could one person, who should rightfully be her enemy, turn everything upside down?

Before she could respond, Anya suddenly grabbed Lexa's arm again and she looked up in surprise. "But only if you cannot save her," she said, her voice deadly serious. "Clarke sees her sacrifice as a crime. The weight of her actions has darkened her spirit. She is vulnerable, Lexa. You must go to her."

Anya's words lifted Lexa's spirits, but only for a moment. "I betrayed the alliance. Clarke will never trust me again, nor will she want my help."

"She will have no choice if she wants to survive what is coming for her."

This piqued Lexa's curiosity. "Do you know what it is?"

Anya shook her head. "No, but I can feel its darkness." She shuddered, as if the thought alone was enough to worry her. "You must find her before it does."

"Anya, I need you to go to her," she said urgently. "Find out where she is and where she is going. I will keep a part of myself open to the spirit world so that you can come through."

"Sha, Heda. Be careful, I sense that everything is about to change."

Anya gave her shoulder one last squeeze and disappeared within the blink of an eye, leaving Lexa alone in the darkness with a stomach full of nerves and a heavy heart. She turned back towards the motionless form of her body. She needed to prepare for Anya's return.

…

"Clarke! Clarke, wake up!" Octavia cried, desperately holding onto the thrashing, screaming blonde. Her heart pounded against her ribcage frantically, dread pooling in her stomach as wide, terrified eyes darted around uncertainly.

What was she supposed to do? She had been attempting to wake Clarke for nearly ten minutes with no luck, and had even resorted to shaking and slapping the distressed girl. The sound of Clarke's shrieks ringing through the night made Octavia's blood run cold; they were unlike anything that she had ever heard before. She could not even begin to imagine what Clarke was seeing behind closed eyes, but she was worried sick with fear. All that she could do was hold onto the blonde tightly to offer as much comfort as possible, though it seemed to have no effect.

"Come on, Clarke," Octavia whispered. "You need to wake up before we have the entire Trikru army come down upon us."

She glanced around nervously, awaiting the moment a dark figure of a warrior burst out from within the trees. If she was stronger and if it was not pitch black, she would carry Clarke to somewhere far away, but it was no use. The forest was dangerous enough during the day, even more so during the night. Besides, Clarke's screams would alert anyone to their location, no matter where they went.

Octavia ripped her sword from its sheath. If something were to come then she would simply have to protect Clarke as best as she possibly could.

But just as quickly as it all started, Clarke suddenly went limp and her screams fell quiet, leaving the forest in deafening silence.

"Clarke?" Octavia called out, gently giving the girl a shake. "Shit, Clarke, don't do this to me."

She curled a hand around Clarke's neck to feel for a pulse, but before she even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief when she felt the gentle throbbing beneath her fingertips, Clarke's hand shot up and latched onto Octavia's wrist with a painfully tight grip.

"Clarke, let go! It's me!"

How on earth was she this strong?

Octavia was desperately trying to pry her wrist free when Clarke's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she inhaled sharply at what she saw.

Clarke's eyes were completely black. As black as night.

It all happened so fast that she did not have a chance to try to stop it when Clarke suddenly bolted upright, ripping out of her hold as she twisted around, knocking the sword from Octavia's grip before slamming her into the cold, hard ground. The force knocked the air from Octavia's lungs, leaving her too dazed to stop Clarke as she straddled her chest, kneeling on her arms as she wrapped her hands around Octavia's throat, baring her teeth like an enraged animal.

Octavia spluttered and thrashed beneath Clarke, her throat screaming as it was crushed beneath the blonde's iron grip and her lungs burned as they desperately fought for air. She tried to focus on Clarke's face, hoping to catch even the smallest glimpse of the girl that she knew, but only found a burning hatred in a never-ending sea of black.

"Clarke, please," Octavia wheezed, trying to get through to the blonde as the world around her began to spin.

All of a sudden, Clarke's head snapped up and the darkness faded from her eyes as she gasped. Her grip faltered, and Octavia quickly seized the opportunity, mustering every ounce of her remaining strength to throw the girl off her. Octavia quickly scrambled away, coughing violently as she tried to pull in as much oxygen to her deprived lungs and dove towards her sword, but as she whirled around with the weapon held out in front of her to fend off another attack, she realised that Clarke had not moved. In fact, the blonde was leaning back on her elbows and looking around with wide, confused eyes. When they finally landed on Octavia, she breathed out a heavy breath and lowered her swords.

Clarke's eyes were as light and blue as a morning sky.

"Octavia, what's going on?" she asked, sounding more like an innocent child than a raging psychopath who just tried to kill her.

Octavia winced as she reached up to rub her throat before standing up, there would definitely be a bruise by the morning. "I was hoping that you could tell me," she croaked, "considering that you just tried to kill me."

"What?" she exclaimed, pushing herself up. "No, Octavia, why would I…"

She tried to approach the younger girl, but Octavia lifted her sword defensively to ward her off, only feeling the slightest bit guilty at the hurt look that flashed across the blonde's face.

Clarke held up her hands and swallowed as she took a step back, putting a safe amount of distance between the two. "O, I swear that I would never hurt you. Please, you have to believe me!"

Octavia hesitated at the look in Clarke's eyes and the sincerity of her words. But after what just happened, could she really trust her? Sure, Clarke seemed to be back to her normal self, but Octavia could not forget what just happened, or what she saw.

Those eyes… Octavia shuddered at the image of the burning hatred that she saw within the blackness. How was it even possible?

She looked up at the girl who she considered as her friend despite everything they had been through together. Clarke was capable of many things; she had proven that at TonDC and Mount Weather, but she was still a good person. She was not capable of that kind of hatred.

Octavia realized that what she saw was not Clarke, but if that was the case, then who, or what was it? She eyed the blonde warily. She would have to be on her guard until she figured it out.

"Maybe not," she said as she lowered her sword, "but I don't think you're fully in control of yourself, Clarke."

Clarke shook her head, causing a few strands of blonde hair to fall in her face. "What are you talking about?"

 _Should I tell her about the black eyes?_ Octavia wondered, but quickly decided against it. She could not even begin to explain to herself, let alone anybody else. Clarke would not understand, she would either think that she was crazy or say that it was just a trick of the light.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Clarke paused and seemed to think about it, a haunted look crossed over her face. "Nothing, I was trying to sleep and when I woke up, you were holding your sword up at me."

Clarke was never very good at lying so Octavia knew right away that she was not telling the truth, which did not fill her with confidence, but she decided to play along. "I was holding my sword up at you because you were screaming like a mad woman so I tried to wake you up, then you flipped out and tried strangling me to death."

The haunted expression never fell from Clarke's face as she moved to sit down. "O, I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything," she said in a small voice as she pulled her knees up to her chest. "Why can't I remember?"

Octavia wanted to help, but how could she? She was barely holding it together herself, surviving was all that she could focus on these days, but seeing Clarke fall apart when she had always been strong, even in the most difficult times, was frightening.

She sighed. "I don't know, Clarke, but we'll figure it out. You should get some rest; we have a long journey to Mount Weather tomorrow."

Clarke quickly shook her head and pushed herself up from the ground. "No, I've already slept so I'll take watch."

Octavia hesitated, a part of her wanted to tell Clarke that she would not feel safe after what just happened, but she could not bring herself to make the distraught blonde feel any worse, so she simply nodded and settled down by the fire as Clarke wandered off through the trees to take watch.

The forest fell quiet once more as she attempted to relax in the warmth of the orange glow, keeping her sword close, just in case.

…

Clarke rammed her fists into her temples, pressing so hard that she was certain her skull would cave in. She squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and slammed her head back against the tree, causing stars to explode behind her eyes, but the pain did not help. Why would it not stop?

Ever since she came to, it was as though there was a presence constantly screaming within her mind, demanding for attention. She felt it within the dream as she watched herself kill Lexa, as she turned towards herself with cold eyes and called her something, something that she did not understand, but could not shake.

Wanheda.

Clarke shivered with fear and quickly pulled her handgun from its holster. Everything felt wrong, from the air in her lungs, the breeze on her skin to the cold metal of the gun pressing into her hand. Not to mention the fact that she could not remember attacking Octavia!

Tears welled up in Clarke's eyes and she swallowed harshly. The way that Octavia looked at her was horrible, as if she did not even recognise her. They had been through so much together, but they were finally on their way to repairing their damaged friendship, even if it was a slow process. All they had now was each other, but now, that was ruined. If Octavia did not trust her before, then she certainly would not now.

The screaming in her head intensified, and Clarke quickly grabbed onto another branch to keep from falling as her head violently as her head spun. She panted raggedly, trying to calm the wave of nausea that suddenly surged through her.

 _What is happening to me?_ She whimpered internally.

She could not take much more of this. Sitting around, waiting for the morning to come before they could travel was not helping matters; it was giving too much time for her mind to wander into unsafe territories. She needed something to focus on. Having a plan and taking action was what always kept her going. Patience was not Clarke's strong suit and right now, it was her enemy. It was time to move.

Nodding to herself, Clarke shoved the gun into its holster and carefully made her way back down the tree. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, Clarke intended on heading to the camp to wake Octavia and convince her that they should start their journey to Mount Weather, regardless of it being dark and dangerous. However, as Clarke turned in its direction, a dark figure suddenly appeared before her.

Anya.

"Oh my god," Clarke cried out in surprise and leapt back.

Her foot slipped on a tree root and she fell to the ground with an ungraceful thud. In any other situation, she likely would have been embarrassed, but her brain froze as she gazed upwards at the dead warrior.

"No," she whispered in disbelief. "You're dead, I watched you die!"

Strangely, the grounder woman cocked her head to the side and fixed Clarke with a frown. "You can see me?"

Anya's voice cut straight through Clarke and her heart throbbed with guilt. So many people, so many good people were dead because of her. She could not bear it anymore.

Clarke buried her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. "You're not real," she whimpered. "You're not real. Please, just leave me alone!"

She mumbled the words repeatedly until her heart rate dropped back down to a steady pace and her body stopped trembling as violently. Clarke slowly lifted her head and heaved a sigh of relief when she found that she was alone. Unsteadily, she forced herself back up onto her feet and quickly made her way back towards the camp. Octavia immediately sat up when she appeared through the brush, clenching her sword.

"What's wrong?"

"I know it's not safe to travel at night, but I don't feel safe here. We need to go."

Octavia opened her mouth as though she was about to protest, but finally she closed it and just nodded instead.

"Fine, but only for a couple of hours and you must follow my lead."

Clarke agreed and waited as Octavia set about making torches. She grew more impatient and anxious by the minute, but Octavia insisted that they were not leaving unless they could at least see where they were going, so she succumbed. As soon as she was done, Octavia handed one of the burning branches to Clarke with the hint of a smirk on her face.

"Let's go," she said, kicking out the campfire.

Despite her natural instinct to lead, Clarke followed Octavia without protest. They travelled in silence, both unable to think of what to say after earlier occurrences, but also to not bring any unwanted attention to themselves. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but as the looming shadows created by their flaming torches began to morph into familiar faces that Clarke never wanted to see again, it was all she could do to keep her head down and focus on anything besides her own thoughts.

It was going to be a long journey.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any questions, you can find me on tumblr as **kairim.** Follow me and hit me up with some questions.

Until next time!


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